


Trouble

by MissAmbrose18



Category: ambreigns - Fandom
Genre: 19 Year Old Dean - Freeform, 30 year old Roman, Dean is a sad kitten, Dean loved Sami, M/M, Mentions of past rape/non con, Prison AU, ambreigns - Freeform, dean ambrose - Freeform, dean is broken, roman reigns - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-17 14:45:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9329735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissAmbrose18/pseuds/MissAmbrose18
Summary: 3 years ago, Dean Ambrose a troubled teen, was enrolled in a prison program that attempts to teach teens the risk of going to prison. There, he met an inmate, Roman Reigns that provoked him and left a lasting impression. Now is actually the real deal, he's going to jail and runs into someone from his past. Ambreigns AU. Prison AU.





	1. Chapter 1

Dean Ambrose watched as the bus pulled up to the prison, guarded by fences, wrapped with caged wire, trapped in there like wild animals. 

A sense of deja vu went past him, 3 years ago. 3 years ago, he had a similar feeling to to what he was having now. However, back then it seemed unrealistic, somewhat of a mockery of the real thing, like a trailer to a movie. 

3 years ago, his mother and his step father had enrolled him in this program for troubled teenagers, rebels. The program introduced them to inmates by taking them to a real prison to show them how they could end up if they keep doing what they're doing. 

His parents claimed that Dean was disrespectful to his mother, got into fights everyday, smoked marijuana, snuck out and went to parties. 

Some of that was true and some of it was false. Dean wasn't disrespectful at all, as a matter of fact, he tried to avoid his "parents" most of the time. And he didn't get into fights everyday, people just thought they could pick on him. He did smoke and he did go to parties. 

But those two things were his only outlet from the real world. The only things that distracted him from reality. The reality of his best friend, Sami Callihan, dying in a car crash. The reality of getting beaten by his step father nearly every day. The reality of getting brutally sexually assaulted in an alleyway when he was 16 years old.

That's why he needed those things. That's why those were his only cure. To try to smoke and drink until you numb the agony. 

 

3 years ago:

Dean watched warily with a blank expression as one inmate was going one by one, yelling and mocking each teenager. The man was possibly in his late twenties, large build, tattooes

"And look at you, boy. What's your problem?" The tattooed inmate approached Dean, knocking the teen out of his thoughts.

"I don't have a problem." The teen gave him a sarcastic smile, pissing people off never failed to amuse him despite the amount of times it has gotten him into trouble. 

"Oh really smart ass, cause I've heard you sneak out huh?"

Dean nodded in agreement, a look of disinterest on his face. "Seems about right." 

"How old are you?" 

The teen shrugged his shoulders. "Sixteen"

"Do you know what a guy like me would do if I caught a boy like you on the streets?" The inmate held his hands together in front of his crotch, staring Dean down. 

Dean didn't reply. His breathing quickened and he furrowed his brows at the inmate. He knows, he fucking knows more than anyone what type of person this guy is. He's dealt with that type of people more than he can count. 

"Do you know what a motherfucker like me would do to you?!" He kneeled down to eye level with the teenager. "You start going out there to them streets, there ain't no age limit. Do you understand what people out there do?!" He screamed. "They look for little dumb bitches like you that wanna get drunk. You'll end up with your panties around your neck wondering why your ass hurts!" 

Dean tightened his fists. He wasn't taking any shit from this guy. He tried to remain calm for the sake of not getting the shit beat out of him. This guy didn't know him. He doesn't know what Dean has gone through, he doesn't know who he is. Dean got up, looking up at the man.

"You need to sit your hot ass down right now." The man growled, shoving Dean a bit. 

"Don't fucking touch me. Don't you fucking touch me." Dean gritted, ignoring the guards and everyone yelling a him for getting in the mans face. 

The tattooed man chuckled. "You're a tough one huh?" The inmate shoved Dean again, this time harder. 

Dean stumbled back a bit, then bit his bottom lip hard before shoving the inmate with all of his strength. 

The raven haired man was fuming with anger. He went to attack Dean but before the situation was about to spiral out of control, the two were separated by the guards. Dean kicked his legs and screamed, he didn't care, he wasn't afraid of this guy. 

"Motherfucker!" The inmate screamed. "Watch! You're gonna end up a whore! A whore is all you'll fucking be!" 

"You don't know me! Don't you fucking talk to me like you know me!" Dean screamed, as the guards pushed him against a wall. 

"Take Reigns to his cell!" Guards screamed, as they were attempting to make order between the two. 

*End of Flashback*

 

But now it was the real thing, the action packed thriller. He looked around at his home for the next two years. It would probably be more than a home than his actual home would ever be.

"Get out newbies." Guards were around the bus. 

Dean got up, his hands chained together. Afraid? Not really. Anxious? Too much. He walked out. 

A guard shoved him. "Hurry the fuck up!" 

Dean turned around. The guy was relatively larger than him but Dean would never let anyone touch him like that, "Don't fucking touch me." He spat. 

"Oh a mouthy one eh? You betcha ya arse I'm gonna have fun watching the inmates rip you apart." The ginger-haired guard laughed. 

Dean shook his head and continued walking. Perhaps he could have another chance to beat the shit out of this guard if he lays his hands on Dean again. 

Dean continued walking, they got inside. Dean looked into the cells. 

He saw a bearded man with a lamp and a rocking chair in one cell talking to himself. In the next cell, he saw a man with two toned hair, blonde and black, practicing his kicks. The next cell was two men twirking and dancing. The next cell was of a tall man, with a buzz cut and tattoos all over his arms. Then there was the next cell, empty. 

"Here's your stop, fresh meat." The guard opened up the cell and lead Dean in there. "Good luck, you're gonna need it." He closed the cell. 

Dean looked at his cell. There was two beds. He was hoping he didn't have a cell mate because he didn't want to have to deal with that. 

Minutes later...

"Blondey! Yer cell mate is here!" The guard from earlier was standing in front of the cell with a man next to him. 

"This is Reigns." The guard unlocked the cell and nudged the raven haired man into the cell. 

"Did I really fucking need a cellmate, Sheamus?!" Reigns screamed, banging his fists against the the bars. 

Deans heart rate sped up. He's heard that voice before. And that face looked awfully familiar. 

The guard, Sheamus, smirked. "C'mon Reigns, you'll have fun with em. He a fresh one." Sheamus chuckled and Dean growled. "And either way, you don't have a choice, so make the best out of it eh?" The guard said before trailing off. 

Reigns turned his attention to Dean. "Look first off, you're on my bed so get the fuck up. Second of all, don't talk to me, don't touch me, and don't look at me. Third of all, if I see you near anything that belongs to me, I will end you." The tattooed man stated in one breathe, as if these words were rehearsed and memorized. 

Dean shook his head. The only people he meets are assholes. He shouldn't be surprised that this guy was being a dick to him. 

"Are you fucking deaf? I told you to get the fuck up" The larger of the two yanked Dean up by his shirt. 

Dean shoved him away. He clenched his fists. "Don't touch me, don't fucking touch me." He gritted.

Reigns paused. Those words, that voice, that face was slowly bringing back memories. The tattooed mans face filled with confusion. 

"Who the fuck are you?" 

The dirty blonde paused. "...Dean Ambrose..." 

The inmate still looked utterly confused. "How old are you?" 

"19" He stated. He didn't know why he was telling this guy anything. Perhaps it was the fact that he gets asked those questions so much. It was instinctive to answer them. "What do you fucking want?" Dean snapped. 

"You're so young." He whispered under his breath. "I know you but I don't know where." 

"You don't know me. You've seen me, you've spoken to me but you don't know me." Dean corrected, shaking his head in an attempt get that out of his head, to get that time and age out of his head. 

"What?" Reigns pondered for a moment, taking a look at Dean from head to toe. His eyes widened, this was that punk kid from that program a couple of years ago. They had asked him and a group of inmates to scream at and terrify troubled teenagers in an attempt to show them what their actions can get them. Roman didn't really mind doing it, they said it would help his record and they would think about shortening his sentence. So he did it. The aim of the program was to get those teenagers to avoid prison. However with Dean, this was obviously not the case. 

"You're that kid." 

Dean chuckled coldly. "Yeah, that kid." He mimicked. "It's nice to be remembered as something other than 'whore'." 

The tattooed mans face flushed with guilt. "I uh, I'm sorry." 

"Yeah okay." Dean rolled his eyes. "Look I don't want any problems okay? So just don't talk to me and I wont talk to you. I won't touch your shit either." Dean stated. He didn't want any problems, he never did. He remembers every word of what Reigns had said when he went to that program. Dean wasn't afraid, he was just sick and tired of everything. 

"Fine." 

] 

The guards had called everyone to form one straight line. 

"Dean Ambrose. Step out. Get yer arse over here." 

Dean stepped out the line and approached Sheamus. 

"I'm going to need you to hand that over." Sheamus pointed to a small picture in Deans front pocket. 

Dean took it out and shook his head. It was a picture of him and his best friend, Sami, together. It was a month before Sami had died. The only person who he loved that actually loved him back. 

"Give it" Sheamus stuck his hand out. 

"No it's mine." 

"Ambrose. Hand it over. Now." Sheamus demanded, then tried to grab it out of Deans hand. 

Dean yanked it back and shoved Sheamus. "Don't touch me ever again. I will fucking break your arm." The dirty blonde threatened. Dean didn't care if he was a guard. No one takes away the only thing Dean has left. No one. 

Sheamus grabbed Deans arm and pulled him close. "You threatening me, little boy?" 

Dean threw a punch and that's when five other guards tackled Dean to the ground. The teenager felt suffocated, he struggled as the guards grabbed at his arms and legs. But he still held onto the photo of Sami in his hands. 

"No! No!" Dean writhed in their hold. 

The guards had Dean at their mercy now. Sheamus took out his baton and began driving it to Deans midsection, over and over again. 

Dean screamed, kicking his legs and flailing his arms.

One of the guards got behind Dean, wrapping their arms around his neck. 

Deans eyes widened. His oxygen was being cut off. He attempted to pry the hands off his neck but he couldn't. 

The inmates who had been watching this were shocked. 

"Let him go man!" 

"That's not right!" 

"He's just a kid, stop!" 

The inmates were screaming out their refusal to this but they knew they weren't going to be able to do anything about it. If they tried to interfere, it would happen to them instead. And in prison, you can't trust anyone. It was every man for himself. 

After a few minutes, the struggling stopped and Deans body went limp. The guards let him go when they were 100% sure he was passed out. 

 

Sheamus shook his head angrily. "I want each and every one of you to listen." Sheamus gestured to the line of inmates. "I want this to be a lesson of what could happen to any of you if you disrespect us." He stated and look at Dean on the ground. "This new little twink thought he could motherfucking lay his hands on me" Sheamus clenched his fists and landed a swift kick to Deans back. 

Dean came out of his momentary unconsciousness with a cry of pain.

"Enough!" 

"He's already down!" 

The inmates yelled. 

Sheamus ignored them and landed about 10 more kicks and stomps to Deans upper and lower back. And his ribs as well. 

Dean curled up into himself, in pain but still holding onto his only possession. 

Sheamus kneeled down. "Gimme that." He growled, trying to yank it out of Deans hand but Dean was too stubborn, holding onto it for dear life. 

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Sheamus stepped on Deans head. And still he tried to yank it out. After a while of prying it, he eventually got Dean to let go. Tearing a piece of the photo. Dean gasped quietly and shook his head, holding in tears and looking at Sheamus angrily. 

"Everyone go to the showers now." Everyone stood still for a moment, hesitating to move. "Now!" He screamed. 

]

Roman was one of the last people in the showers. The guards wouldn't tell him anything though. He was well respected. An inmate for almost 5 years after being charged with first degree robberies. Roman wasn't a bad person, he himself knew that. He needed the money to take care of his daughter. And he's not ashamed of himself because of that. He's ashamed of having to leave his daughter. 

"Get in there! You have 3 minutes!" 

Roman watched as AJ Styles, one of the guards, shoved Dean into the shower areas. 

Dean walked in with his fists clenched, he looked as if he was about to murder someone.

Poor kid, Roman thought. He would've attempted to help him, but he knew he would make it worse. Roman can't say he didn't tell Dean what would've happened. 3 years ago, he told the teenager where he would end up and Roman was correct. 

Dean took off his clothes slowly. 

Roman noticed his trembling hands. Roman tried not to look, he felt as if he was looking at a child. But it was hard to look away, the first glance of Deans body was something he wished he could unsee. 

Above that gorgeous body that Roman knew was there, cuts, bruises, scratches, finger prints, scars littered Deans body from top to bottom.

Bruises in the forms of fists on his stomach. Scratches running down his back. Finger prints on his thighs. Cuts all over his arms, but those were most likely self harm. It was scary, so scary to Roman and he's seen things no one has ever seen but this was something else.

Dean noticed Roman staring. 

"Look I don't want any problems, okay. I just wanna shower and leave." Dean stated, not making eye contact, staring straight at the wall. He learned that over the years, eye contact was what got you into trouble. To some people, making eye contact meant 'he wants it' or 'he's asking for it'. So Dean avoided it whenever possible. 

Roman looked shocked. Did Dean think that Roman would do something to him? In the showers? Perhaps, Roman has given him that idea. They haven't really started off on a good note. Roman remained silent and finished off his shower. 

 

] 

Roman stared at Dean examining his features. Dirty blonde, pale skin, baby blue eyes, tall, skinny. He wasn't pretty. No. He was more than that. Perhaps there was true beauty below all the bruises. 

"Okay man, you've been staring at me for the past 20 minutes. What? What's wrong?" Dean snapped.

"N-Nothing...I'm sorry." Roman stuttered, clearly embarrassed. "Look, can we start over?" Roman asked. 

Dean stared at him for what seemed like forever before he shrugged his shoulders then nodded slowly. He didn't know where this was going but he may as well. An acquaintance in prison can't be that bad, but he knows he can't trust anyone. 

Roman ran his hand through his hair. "I'm Roman Reigns"

Dean nodded his head. "Yeah I remember." 

Roman smiled softly. "You got a good memory it seems" 

"Yeah, I pretty much remember everything." Dean played around with his fingers. "...Even things I don't really want to remember." 

Roman frowned. They remained silent for a bit until, surprisingly, Dean broke the silence. 

"How old are you?" 

"30" 

"Oh wow. How long have you been in here for?" 

"5 years. 3 armed robberies." Roman stated. "What're you in here for?" 

Dean ran his hands through his hair. "...was just at the wrong place at the wrong time." He admitted. "2 years in here." 

2 years in prison. Let's see if he lasts a week at least without killing another human being or even himself.


	2. Chapter 2

"NO!" 

Dean gasped awake, sweating and breathing heavily. Another nightmare, another normal day in the life of Dean Ambrose. It has been different as of late. He's in prison, caged in like the wild animal he is. Perhaps it wasn't really different though. His life before prison was quite similar, he was trapped on the streets, trapped by toxic people, trapped in his fucked up mind. 

Deans heavy breathing had calmed down, he put his hand on his heart. "Get it together Ambrose, it was just a dream." He whispered to himself, wiping the lone tear going down his face. 

It was a miracle he had even fell asleep, seeing as Roman Reigns is who he shared with. Thankfully, the older man was still asleep though. Dean had to admit, seeing the older man certainly alarmed him. He never thought he would be seeing him ever again after their encounter from when he was sixteen. He never forgot Romans words from that day, talking about what he would do to Dean if he ever saw him. At the time, Dean had been scared, so fucking scared because he knew what Romans type would do to him. Romans type were the type that would make him take a longer route if Dean saw them loitering in his neighborhood. Romans type were the ones who would call him disgusting names on his way home. Romans type were the ones who would drag him into an alleyway and take everything away from him for no apparent reason. 

A tear went down Deans face. He wasn't scared, is what he told himself. That stuff didn't scare him anymore, he was older and stronger now. But deep down, he knew. He knew how truly afraid he was. This whole tough guy attitude was just an act. He knew he was still that sixteen year old boy whose heart dropped and his stomach begins to hurt when he saw a threatening-looking person. 

Dean covered his face with his hands and leaned back till his head was on the cold, hard, thin mattress. He closed his eyes and thought of the only thing that made him happy. Sami. The only person who loved and accepted him. When times like this came (and they came much too often), Sami used to hold him and whisper comforting words. 

*Flashback* 

Legs tangled, rough hands, tears, bruises, messy kisses. 

It happened again. Deans step father or as Sami addressed him: 'Motherfucking cunt ass bitch', had laid his dirty hands on Dean, beating him to a pulp for no reason whatsoever. Maybe this was just Sami being biased but Dean was the most non-provocative, calm, easy-going, gentle, beautiful person in the world. For anyone to even think to lay a harmful hand on the dirty blonde was sinful. 

Dean shivered and buried his face deeper into Samis chest, mumbling something. 

"What was that?" Sami stroked the curly cues of his best friend. He always admired Deans hair. It fit him so well. Soft and simply yet unruly and wild. 

Dean lifted his head looking up at Sami, baby blues eyes meeting hazels. "I wanna smoke."

"Okay." Sami got up off his bed and to his dresser, opening the bottom drawer and taking out his some pre-made joints and cigarettes. "What can I get for you?" 

Dean smiled softly. "You're a bad influence, you're supposed to tell me smoking is bad." He was joking of course, nothing about Sami was bad. He was the definition of a perfect human being. 

"I want you to be happy." 

Dean bit down on his bottom lip, unsure of what to say. He blushed slightly. Sami was always the type to be open and cool about everything. He was like those cool parents you see on TV but better. Everything about him was better. Nothing in the world compared to Sami's level of goodness. Compared to everyone else, he was the only good in evil. He was the light in the darkness. He was Deans light, his only sunshine.

"So what can I get you, doll?" Sami asked as he searched for a lighter. 

"I ain't no doll." Dean would never admit it but the nickname was something he actually loved. It was unique, only Sami had ever used it. No matter the amount of times Dean has called Sami out on it. Sami still used it, as if he knew Dean secretly adored it coming out of his mouth. 

"I know...you're prettier." 

Dean rolled his eyes, "Pass me a Mary Jane." 

Sami tossed a joint to his best friend, chuckling. "You haven't called it that in so long" 

"Well not since your grandma questioned it." Dean chuckled as well. 

Sami plopped himself back down on the bed. "She thought it was some chick I had a crush on." 

The two went into a fit of laughter. Only one another would ever make each other laugh or even smile. No one else had the power to bring happiness to them. Dean made Sami happy and Sami made Dean happy. 

"She would ask you about her every day." Dean added. 

After the laughter had settled, Sami lit up Deans joint as well as his owns. 

Sami took in a puff and blew it in Deans face. "Little did she know, I only had eyes for the boy sitting right in front of me." He whispered. 

Sami leaned forward, capturing his best friends lips in a passionate kiss. 

"Sami..." Dean moaned. 

They wouldn't have released each other if it wasn't for their need of oxygen. 

Dean tucked his head in the crook of Samis neck. "You're the best fucking thing ever, Sami." 

"Nah, dolly. You are." 

It was the closest thing either would ever get to saying 'I love you'. 

*End of Flashback* 

Dean wiped the tears away roughly. "Why'd you leave me, Sami? Why?" He whispered. "I love you, I love you so much..." 

] 

Romans brain was scattered with confusion, sympathy, curiosity, guilt. He wasn't exactly sure why he was feeling this way but he knows from who. Dean. Dean, the currently youngest guy in this prison. The teen hasn't left Romans mind since he's arrived here. Roman was always good at reading people but Dean was different, somewhat mysterious. 

What's fueling his current thoughts was that he woke up to hearing Dean screaming and whimpering the name 'Sami' repeatedly. To say it broke Romans heart was an understatement. Roman could tell he's going through a lot but he's one to say, considering the fact that he thrashed and humiliated the teenager three years ago. Roman was never one to stick his nose in someone's business but he was curious, curious about the teen and what he was going through, curious as to how he ended up in prison, curious as to who this 'Sami' was. 

"Whose Sami?" 

Roman was so in his thoughts he hadn't even realized he was thinking out loud. 

"What?" The look on Deans face was almost as confused as Roman was feeling. 

"N-Nothing" Roman shook his head, mentally calling himself a 'moron' over and over again. 

"No, no, no you said Sami. Why'd you say Sami?" Deans voice had an alarming sound to it. It was the first time Romans seen him have any interest in anything. 

Roman shook his head. "I uh-I hear you mumble that name a lot." It wasn't a complete lie. Roman didn't want to make Dean uncomfortable mentioning that he heard Dean sobbing the name repeatedly. 

Deans cheeks turned a dark shade of red. "Oh uh really?" Deans voice was soft, something quite rare. The teen hadn't realized that he says Sami so often. 

"Yeah uh sorry, that just came out." Roman apologized, still ashamed at himself for humiliating himself. 

"Whatever." Dean went back to his previous position of shoving his face in his knees. 

...

"I understand what you're going through Dean." Again, Roman couldn't help it from coming out. It seemed as if he had no filter today, just blurting things out. He was mentally cursing himself.

"Reigns, stop trying to be buddy buddy with me. Just fuck off dude." Dean shook his head. He knew the tattooed man was just trying to lure Dean in just to turn on him at the end. He was just like everyone else, out to get him, to hurt him. 

"I just-I..." Roman stuttered.

"Don't you dare compare yourself to me, Roman. You have no idea who I am." Roman is nothing more than an arrogant douchebag who thinks that because he's been in jail for years that he has a right to talk to people like he knows them. Over the years, Dean has learned that people don't change. Dean hasn't changed and neither will Roman. The tattooed man humiliated him, spoke to him like he was a whore, a slut, a piece of trash. What Roman said was something no one could take back. 

And this time Roman shut up.


	3. Chapter 3

*Flashback*

 

Dean winced as the cold water hit his body as he lathered his bruised ribs. A couple of guys from school roughed him and Sami up. They obviously attempted to fight them off but of course five on two was too much for the teenagers. The guys thought they could pick on Sami for his size but he wasn't having it and neither was Dean. One thing lead to another and Sami was getting cheap shotted and Dean was launching himself on a larger teen. 

Although the pain itself was not the greatest thing in the world, he's glad he intervened. He would defend Sami with his life if it meant keeping his best friend unharmed. Never would he regret helping the boy he adored. 

Dean was lost in his thoughts when: 

 

"AMBROSE!" Deans step father, Mike, roared.

"I told you to fix the dents on my car you dumb bitch!" 

Shit. 

Shit. 

Shit. 

Dean totally forgot. 

He heard the bathroom door open. 

The shower curtain was suddenly pulled and arms were yanking Dean out of the shower as the water still poured down. The naked man gasped. 

He was slammed against the wall, cringing at the sound his wet, bare back made against the tile. 

"I fucking told you to fix the dents on my car!" 

His hands snaked to go around the teenagers neck but Dean pushed the large hand away quickly. He wouldn't give him more control than he already had. 

"Move." Dean struggled. "Dude I'll do it, I'll do it right now. Just let me go get dressed." 

"Dude? Dude?! What am I? Your friend?!" The larger mans eyes flamed in rage. How much more disrespectful can this tween be? "Oh right! I forgot little bitches like you don't have friends. Unless you consider the little fun size dwarf boyfriend you have." He laughed at Deans enraged expressions. 

"You call me sir from now on." The man gritted. 

The teens jaw tightened. No one talks shit about Sami. "Fuck you!" 

 

The much older man let out a laugh before quickly wrestling Dean to the ground. The teen struggled, nearly getting the upper hand until he hit his head on the panel of the tub. His hands reached up to protect the wounded area. 

His step father wiped his mouth of the blood given to him by his step son in the scuffle. 

The squirming teen was quickly pinned to the ground. 

As if Dean hadn't felt vulnerable enough being completely naked and dripping wet, now his step father had his hands bound to his side and he made himself comfortable on Deans already injured mid section. 

"Get off me!" Dean screamed. "I can't-" 

"Not until you learn respect, you piece of trash!" The larger man spat. 

"Just get off of me, man, I can't breathe." His voice was filled with anger and frustration. He was in pain but was trying so hard not to show it. He wouldn't give him that satisfaction, he wouldn't. 

The teen gasped when his step father drove himself deeper onto Deans ribs. The air was practically being squished out of him. All the weight of the man above him was being put on his ribs. 

"Stop it, just stop..." The dirty blonde whined, his eyes unwillingly filled with tears. He gained a little bit of hope when he saw his mother passing by the door was, turning a blind eye, as per usual. 

"Mom! Mom!" Dean yelped. "Tell him!" 

She shook her head. "Don't be disrespectful to the women who gave you birth." She walked away listening to her son scream. 

"What?" His face twisted in confusion. "I haven't done anything to you!" Dean covered his face with his hands to keep them from seeing him break down. His own "mother" wouldn't even attempt to help the boy she gave birth to. 

"My stomach hurts so bad, just stop, stop." His voice was muffled by his hands. He hated them seeing him like this. In pain, screaming, weak, afraid. 

"Say sorry!" Deans step father, the monster above him, yelled. 

Dean shook his head, sniffling. Too much pride for a boy who has nothing. 

"SAY IT!" He grabbed the teens head and slammed it against the floor. 

Dean clenched his head with his arms. 

"SAY IT! APOLOGIZE! APOLOGIZE!" The older man began bouncing Deans head off the ground repeatedly, screaming at him to apologize. 

But they both knew Dean wouldn't, he was too stubborn. Eventually the teenager slipped into unconsciousness, his eyes fluttering shut, from the intrusion. 

But the monster didn't care, he proceeded to then bounce his fist into the teens face. 

"That's it, he's out, he's out." Deans mother finally intervened to see her only son, her child, unconscious on the ground. 

"Oh god, hunny that's enough, he's bleeding." She had morals, she used to be a decent person but her husband almost immediately would brainwash her: 

"You know he deserves it for the way he treats us, the way he treats you. He needs to learn discipline." He then left the bathroom, leaving his step son on the ground. 

...

Deans eyes fluttered open. He couldn't move, he sat up on the ground 

"Here..." 

Dean shook his head, as tears mixed with blood, rejecting the towel his "mother" was handing him. 

He attempted to sit up, gasping as a shock of pain went through his stomach. "I think my ribs are broken." He breathed out shakily. 

"I'll take you to the hospital." She proposed. 

"I'm not going anywhere with you." He adjusted his position on the ground. "I can't do this anymore...I can't. I'm going to Sami's" 

Dean crawled towards the door, but was blocked by her moving to stand in the door way. 

"Mom..." Dean whined with tears in his eyes, as he began to openly sob. "Why are you doing this to me?" 

He dragged himself against the toilet in order to look up at her, crying hard. 

"I just wanna go." He whined. 

"You can barely move." 

"Just let me go, let me leave." He was getting desperate now, emotions over coming the teenager as he broke down in tears.

"You have to stay here." Her face a blank stare, barely showing any remorse towards her child. 

Dean cried out. "Why?" 

He then heard footsteps. Dean gasped. "He's coming back, he's coming..." The fear and pain was evident in the boys eyes as he looked at his mother. His attempt to see mercy in her eyes failed. 

The door was busted open. 

"You dirty little cunt!" Mike grabbed the teen and threw him into the wall. The dirty blondes body collapsed to the ground at impact. 

He lied there on the ground, motionless, breathing heavily. 

"Go to your room!" Mike screamed, his face red in pure rage. 

Dean heard him but just the thought of moving seemed impossible.

"I said GO TO YOUR ROOM!" 

"Mike, he can't move. Just leave him for now." She chimed in. Now, feeling as if it was enough. 

To Dean, it was enough a long, long time ago. 

"No, he's gonna get up whether he likes it or not." The older man violently marched towards the teenager, grabbing his arms. 

Dean let out whimpers and cries as he was dragged across the floor from one room to another. When he got tired of nearly yanking Dean arms out of his socket, he resorted to pulling at Deans hair and ears. 

He was tossed into his bedroom. 

"Now you're gonna stay in here until I let you leave!" 

"No! No! No!" Dean screamed, crawling towards the door as fast as he can before it can be slammed shut. The door that Mike, his step father, had reversed the lock on, so that he can trap Dean in there. The last time he was locked in his room, it was for three days. Three whole days of Dean lying on the ground all alone, to himself, his fucked up world, and the terrible words that Mike would scream through the locked door. 

Dean banged his fists on the door repeatedly. "Let me out! Let me out!" 

He began sobbing. "FUCKING PLEASE!" He screamed in pain and frustration. 

"Be respectful, dumbass! Or I won't let you leave this house for the next month!" 

Dean was desperately sobbing now, banging on the door repeatedly. "PLEASE SIR!" When the door still didn't open, Dean let out another scream. "SIR PLEASE!"

...

Dean didn't know when or how he had passed out. Perhaps it was from the crying. He woke up to gentle stroking of his arm. 

"Dean, Dean, baby." 

Sami. His soothing voice rang through Deans ears. 

"H-How'd you-" 

"I may have broken your window." 

Dean smiled softly. Deans step father put a lock on the window in an attempt to keep "rats" out, in a reference to Sami.

Dean was practically locked in his house for days. He couldn't head out the front door because If he did, he would receive yet another beating. And of course he tried to break the window but even the smallest sound Dean made would make Mike enter his room and beat Dean to a pulp. He was helpless. 

Dean let out a choked sob, remembering the situation from earlier. He clutched his ribs. 

"We're leaving, we're leaving." Sami knew already without even having to ask Dean. 

"Where are your clothes?" Sami wrapped his arms around the naked teen as his blood went cold. "He didn't try anything right?" 

Dean shook his head, crying into Sami's worn out sweater. "He-He pulled me out of the shower and started hitting me." 

Although the thought made his blood boil, Sami was relieved the monster didn't attempt to do anything sexual to Dean. If that ever happened, Sami wouldn't be responsible for his own actions. All hell would break loose. 

Dean sobbed into the chest of his best friend, letting it all out. All the pain and suffering the teen felt could only be revealed to his only friend, the only person in the world who was allowed to see this part of him. Sami. 

"Shhh...Shhh..." 

"I-I don't know what I did...I-I" 

"You didn't do anything wrong, you're never wrong baby. Never." Sami had to restrain himself from leaving the room and beating Deans step father senseless. His voice turned soft. "C'mon lemme dress you up and we're gonna go, okay?"

Dean wrapped his arms around Sami's neck, hugging him tightly, as if he was gonna lose him. 

Sami got a quick view of the dirty blondes pale wrist, covered in cuts. 

Dean had been wearing sweatshirts while it was 90 degrees outside and whenever Sami questioned it, the other teen would brush it off. Although Sami had been quite skeptical, he always knew when Dean was hiding something whether it be bruises or more self harm scars. 

"Dean you promised you would stop." 

Dean pulled away for a second, confused, then quickly realizing what Sami had meant. 

"We were both doing so good." The disappointment was evident on the shorter boys face. They had both made a promise to each other that they would stop. 

Deans bottom lip quivered as he felt himself about to break down again. "I'm so sorry, Sami. I-I needed it." 

"Hey, hey, no more tears. It's okay, just no more okay?" His voice was soft as he wiped away the tears dripping from the baby blue orbs. "I don't want you to hurt yourself. Let me dress you up okay?" 

Dean wiped his tears as he nodded. Sami leaned down and laid a soft, gentle kiss to the forehead of his boy. Deans eyes fluttered shut, taking in the brush of Sami's lips against his skin. The only gesture of affection that was ever given to him. 

He never believed people when they said that love heals and maybe he still doesn't but Sami's kisses could heal him. Gosh, Sami's soft touches in Deans theory, could heal the world. 

*End of Flashback* 

 

Dean sat with his knees up to his chest, head tucked downward. You would think he was bored out of his mind, locked up in a cell with another criminal with nothing to say or do. However, it was the complete opposite. Everyone second of every minutes, racing through his mind was memories, memories from his fucked up life, memories with Sami. Sweet sweet Sami, the cure to all his pain and anguish. Just thoughts of his beautiful face sent tingles up Deans spines and made his heart flutter.

"Inmate 052585." 

Deans head shot up at the sudden voice, eyeing the guard standing in front of the cell. Dean knew that wasn't his "name", he had memorized his from day one. Another negative characteristic Dean believed to be: he remembered everything. Possibly it was because of his constantly replaying every situation that happens in his head but it was something he wished he didn't do. Most of the time, the situation is something Dean never wants to remember. 

He looked to Roman Reigns who seemed to be so enveloped in his book that he didn't hear the multiple times that the guard had called him. 

Dean was still very wary of Roman Reigns. He could never be too careful especially of a man of Reigns' size and looks. Dean would desperately attempt to not fall asleep because he knew the what the end result of that looked like. However every time sleep deprivation and hunger would over come him and he would pass out. He would usually wake up in a heap, breathing heavily, sweating, sometimes crying but there Roman would be. Either doing push ups or flipping through his book. Roman would shoot occasional glances at the teen but ever since Deans confrontation of the older man, Reigns hasn't said a word to him since. 

"HEY REIGNS." The guard barked and that got the Samoan inmate to shoot his head up. 

"What's with the-" Roman was about to go off on the guard angrily but noticed it was one of his good friends, Antonio Cesaro. 

Over the years of being in jail, Roman had made many enemies but he had made some friends and oddly one of those friends was a prison guard. Cesaro and Roman oddly bonded when Roman got put in the "hole" for one week after starting a fight in the cafeteria. The two realized they have more in common than most prisoners and guards. They were both just two guys trying to get by, Cesaro trying to provide for himself and his family and Roman with a daughter at home.

Roman stood up, smiling. "Cesaro bro, you on this block again?" 

"Yeah man, how's it going?" 

Roman shrugged his shoulders. "I'm in prison, Saro." What was he supposed to say? It ain't good in prison. Ever. 

"Sorry man...whose the newbie?" Cesaro nudged his head in the direction of the dirty blonde teen on the bed. 

"Some kid. Got here a few weeks ago." 

"Hm cute, looks like that kid from that program a few years ago who beat you up." 

Dean turned his head to the other direction, he knew when other people were talking about him, looking at him. He hated the attention. 

"That is him...and he didn't beat me up, Cesaro!" 

"Oh shit that's him? Has he caused you any trouble?" 

"He's...he's fine." Roman whispered, taking a small glance at him. 

Cesaro nodded, looking at the teen huddled up in the corner of the bed, covering his face.

The prison turned his attention back to the Samoan. "You have a visitor, man." 

Roman smiled. "Shit man, what're you doing wasting my time here. Escort me." The inmate looked beyond happy. 

 

]

 

When Roman returned to the cell, he had a smile plastered on his face and Dean watched him warily from the moment he walked in to the moment he plopped himself down on his bed. 

Dean got lost looking at cell mate until he heard Reigns' friend-the prison guard calling him, telling him he had a visit. 

A visit?

 

[

Deans face twisted in confusion. 

What the hell was she doing here? 

Her eyes met his, a sad smile appeared on her face. He looked down as he walked over to the booth. 

"Hi baby." 

Dean rolled his eyes at the nickname, staring at the desk in front of him. 

"How are you baby?" 

"Can you just call me Dean? Is it that fucking hard?" Dean snapped, harshly. He didn't care how rude he sounded. She didn't have the right to call him such an intimate name. Not after what she's done. "And what do you fucking expect, I'm in prison." 

"I'm so sorry hunny." A tear fell from her baby blue eyes. Same ones that Dean had.

Dean shook his head, biting back tears. He wasn't going to make himself feel bad for her. It wasn't time for her to turn the tables on him. He wasn't supposed to pity her. 

She stared at him for a long time, staring at the bruises all over his arms, the cuts, welts, and the scars that she recognized. Seeing as she was present when most of them came to be. 

"I-I got you something." 

Deans head perked up in interest, he watched her shuffle around in her pocket. She never really was a neat person. The apple actually doesn't fall far from the tree, huh? 

She slid a white envelope through the tiny gap below the plexi glass. 

Dean took the envelope, looking inside. It was loaded with photos. Many of which Dean recognized almost immediately. 

Pictures taken from a Polaroid camera that him and Sami had stolen from some thrift shop. 

The first photo he pulled out was of Sami blowing smoke into the camera. Dean had taken the photo and fallen in love with it immediately, he thought it was the coolest thing ever and Sami had made fun of him for being so excited but the also began gushing about it with his best friend. 

A sad smile came on his face. He stroked the photo. "Sams..." A lone tear fell from the corner of his eye, in which he quickly wiped away. 

"Bay- Dean, I'm so sorry." 

Dean shook his head. "Will you fucking stop with the 'I'm sorry'?" His voice was harsh and abrasive. "As if you actually give a shit." His demeanor had completely changed over the course of a minute but who could blame him. 

"I am baby, I care about you."

"If you cared you wouldn't let you're husband beat me up every fucking night? If you cared you wouldn't let him lock me in my room for hours because I "looked suspicious"? If you were actually sorry you wouldn't have let him send out his friends to go after my boyfriend?... Are you sorry that he almost, fucking almost...wouldn't let me go to Sami's funeral?" Deans voice cracked. He couldn't help think about that memory. His heart dropped when he remembered being beaten senseless when he told his "parents" he was going to Sami's funeral. But he still made it. He would be there for Sami, always and forever. 

"Baby no. I'm sorry." 

"No, no, no. You know what? I'm sorry! I'm sorry that I have ever called you a mother, you are a disgusting human being." 

With that, Dean slammed the phone. Not forgetting to take the envelope. 

He stood up and walked away, leaving the woman who gave birth to him with tears in her eyes and a new burning hatred for herself.

"Hey! Hey! What's with the yelling Ambrose?!" Sheamus popped out of nowhere, immediately picking on the teenager. 

"Fuck off, Sheamus." 

Dean walked away but not before Sheamus could grab the collar of his shirt. 

The guard dragged him out of the visitation area, and tossed him into a dark corner despite the struggles and attempts of releasing the hold. 

Sheamus slammed him up against the wall. 

"Hey what the fuck!" 

"You have lost your privileges after that little scandal with me." 

"Get off me!" The dirty blonde screamed. "Motherfucker get off!" 

"What'd you call me?" 

"Mother-fucker" Dean repeated slower this time, knowing he would piss the Irishman off. 

"I can fucking end you, you little bitch." Sheamus put his hands on either side of the wall next to Deans head. 

The furious teen looked up at the prison guard. "What's stopping you, big shot?" He sneered.

"You know I would've put you in the hole a long time ago but we try to give the newbies a chance, especially the young ones." 

Sheamus chuckled, "I wanna watch you wither away into oblivion...slowly and painfully." The Irish man added. 

"What are you fucking talki-" 

Sheamus shushed him up. "I took a look at your records..." He began. "...got ahold of some pretty nice information..." He laughed. 

Deans eyes widened. He wasn't aware prison guards had access to that information. Now he knew where Sheamus was going with this. "Spit it out, douchebag." He gritted. 

"Well first of all, you've gotten caught for prostitution how many times?" The prison guard let out a chuckle at that. "And plus multiple involvement in drug deals? And ooph gang activity too? You are one young rebel ain't you?" 

Dean shut his eyes tightly, swallowing hard.   
"Fuck you." 

"Nuh-uh I'm not done. Apparently you reported sexual assault a couple years ago." 

Deans eyes widened. His heart began to race at the memory. He didn't even know that would he put on his records. An investigation wasn't launched. The police didn't even care. 

"Awe, someone scared?" 

"Shut up, shut the fuck up." Dean gritted. 

Sheamus laughed. "Listen, from now on, you're gonna shut your mouth and respect me, you understand?" 

Dean shook his head, looking down. "What makes you think I'll do that?" 

"Because if you don't, you see those boys in there?" Sheamus pointed to the cell that was located to the far left of the block. Two large, hungry men. "They will rip you apart one by one just like you've gotten it before. And I will make sure no one comes to help you." 

Deans breathing quickened and he fought back tears. "You fucking wouldn't." 

"Oh I would." Sheamus warned, giving him a smug smirk. "You wanna try me? I'll throw you in right now." 

"No!" Dean yelled quickly. He hated how desperate he sounded. Now the Irish man knew he held power over Dean. This situation solidified it. 

"Now give me that envelope and we won't have any problems." 

The teenager shook his head, his hands tightly around the photos of Sami. He couldn't give away those photos. They were probably the only thing that's gonna help him survive. Then again, he was gonna be caught dead in this place eventually. But he's promised himself and swore on Sami that he wouldn't let that happen to him again. He wouldn't let someone take advantage of him. 

Dean hesitantly handed the envelope to Sheamus. All his pride disappeared in that exchange. 

"Good boy." The orange haired man said in a smug tone that made the teenager want to knock his teeth completely out of his mouth. Sheamus motioned for Dean to go in front of him for him to be lead to his cell. 

Once Dean was within two feet from his cell:

"Oh Ambrose, and one more thing-" 

Sheamus struck Dean with a fist to his stomach.   
The teen fell to his hands and knees on the ground, letting out a moan of pain. His eyes widened as he felt himself cough up a chunk of blood and mucus. 

Roman Reigns who had watched this transpire from the inside of the cell, got up quickly. 

"What the fuck?!" 

"Stay out of this Reigns!" 

Their voices were muffled to the fallen man.

He was too busy thinking about how much he currently wanted to disappear, fade into oblivion in that very moment just like Sheamus had said. 

After a minute or so, Dean was shoved into the cell by Sheamus' legs.

He remained on the ground for about 30 seconds before letting out a loud, frustrated scream that sent chills down the man who was mere inches away from him. 

The teenager screamed again, kicking, punching and throwing anything in his way. 

"Hey! Fucking calm down!" Roman stood up quickly, alarmed at the nineteen year old's behavior. 

Dean ignored his cell mate and continued trashing the cell. 

"I hate him! I fucking hate him!" The teen screamed, punching the wall. 

"Ambrose!" 

"I need something. I need something sharp..." Dean tried to breath normally but he was fuming in anger, unable to draw in full breaths. 

"Will you fucking calm down!" Roman screamed, keeping his distance from the enraged teen. 

Dean shook his head repeatedly, pulling at his hair. "I need something sharp!" 

Roman had a feeling the dirty blonde wouldn't stop until he got what he wanted, so Roman went over to his bed and pulled out a blade that he hid in a chip of the wall. 

He grabbed Deans wrist and handed it to him. 

He wasn't worried about Dean trying to hurt him. A little blade would do no harm to Roman. And he was probably nearly 80 pounds more than the teen so he could take him. 

Dean quieted down, holding the blade in his hand tightly. Not caring if it drew any blood. 

Roman turned around not wanting to watch. It was none of his business anyway. 

Dean got on his knees in the back right corner of the cell. 

He slashed the razor on his wrist, reopening previous wounds as well as adding to them. He let out a loud gasp. Gosh, it felt so good to do it again. He watched as the blood dripped in amusement. 

It wouldn't hurt anyone to do it again. Well maybe it would hurt him, but he was okay with that. The stinging sensation wasn't something he couldn't handle. 

Dean did it again, then again, then again, then again, then again. He leaned his head against the wall. Forgetting where he was, who he was. It was just like being dead, forgotten. Something he's always wanted.

"Enough!" 

Deans vision was blurry. He felt big arms wrapping around him, wasn't even able to talk or even flinch away like he usually would. 

His bloody, trembling hands reached out for the blade again, failingly trying to gain a grip on it. 

"Stop Dean, you're hurting yourself." 

"I need it...I need it." Dean whispered before his eyes fluttered shut and he went limp in Romans arms. 

"Oh god Ambrose, you're gonna bleed to death..." Roman whispered, picking up the teenager and placing him on his bed. 

Roman hurriedly took of his shirt. He wrapped it around Deans seeping wounds, in an attempt to stop the blood flow. 

]

Deans eyes fluttered open. He was on his bed, he got up slowly. Pain coursed through him but he didn't know from where. 

The teen looked down and he let out a choked gasp of horror. Fresh blood stained the thin white mattress. He knew for a fact it was his blood but he couldn't remember anything. Everything seemed to be a blur, his memory seemed to have stopped working. Why couldn't he remember anything? 

"Dean..." 

Romans voice brought Dean out of his thoughts. His head shot up. Deans eyes narrowed once again. The tattooed man was shirtless. The teens heart began to race. Why wasn't he wearing a shirt? To Dean, there's was no legitimate reason the older man shouldn't be dressed.

"Dean, are you okay?" 

Dean shook his head repeatedly. "W-Why is there blood...why aren't you-" Dean was cut off by himself. "Oh god, oh my god, oh my god." The teen put his knees up to his chest, trembling lightly. 

The pieces added up perfectly. Deans mattress was bloody, he was in pain and Roman wasn't dressed. 

It happened again. Dean promised himself he wouldn't let it happen again. He promised himself he wouldn't let someone take advantage of him again. 

Flashbacks of horrific moments, the memory of blood trailing down his thighs as he begged his rapists to stop crowded his mind. 

"No! No! No!" Dean pulled at his hair. "Please stop! Please stop!" Dean was hitting himself now, digging his nails into his face until it drew blood. 

"Dean stop it!" Roman was stern and Dean froze in his spot. 

The dirty blonde looked Roman dead in the eyes, a painful, fearful, hateful stare. "If you want to cause me pain so badly, then why don't you just put me out of my fucking misery." Dean stated. 

"What?" Roman was beyond confused. He hadn't laid a harmful hand on the teenager. 

Dean shook his head, holding in tears, trying to put on this tough guy act but the reality was he wasn't tough, he wasn't physically, emotionally, nor mentally strong. 

"Dean, I didn't hurt you..." The older mans voice was filled with sincerity, but Dean refused to let his guard down. 

"What is the point in fucking lying?!" Dean spat. Even though he couldn't remember anything, all the pieces added up. Roman hurt him. 

Roman got up. "You really think I would hurt you?!" The tattooed man screamed. "I have been nothing but nice to you since your ass got here!" 

Deans breathing quickened, he looked to the side quickly to see if their were any guards in sight. He stood up as well, getting in Romans face. "You are just like every other disgusting creep I've dealt with!"

"I didn't do anything! You hurt yourself! You passed out from cutting yourself. I tried to help you!" 

Confusion was written all over Deans face. He looked down at his left arm for the first time, it was so numb he hadn't even payed any attention to it. It was wrapped with a shirt. Romans shirt. The bloody blade laid on the ground next to his bed on the floor. 

"I'm sorry..." Dean voice trembled. No one has ever tried to help him before and he screwed it up. Now Roman was angry. 

"Whatever." Roman scoffed. "Fucking ungrateful..." The older man mumbled. 

]

 

Over two hours later, the tension was thick. Dean broke the silence. 

"I'm sorry, Reigns. I can make it up to you." Dean had done a lot of thinking. Roman did Dean a favor and the teen has learned in the past that when someone does something for you, they expect that favor to be returned. And if that favor is not returned, there is severe consequences. There was no doubt that the older man was already furious with Dean and the teen didn't want to add gasoline to the fire.

"What?" 

"I can make it up to you." Dean repeated. 

"No Dean, I wanted to help you." 

Dean walked himself to the other side of the cell, standing in front of Romans bunk. 

Roman immediately got up when he saw the teen approaching him. The two men were mere inches away from each other. Roman towered over the lithe teenager. If Ambrose can't except the fact that Roman was telling the truth, He had no problem taking care of him. If this tween wanted a fight then that's what he was going to get.

Dean looked up at the older man and breathed in heavily. "I need to make it up to you."

Roman was beyond surprised, he had thought the smaller man was trying to pick a fight with him. "Dean, you don't ha-" 

The older man was cut off when Dean got to his knees. The teen made no eye contact whatsoever with Roman, he was staring straight ahead at the bulging cock through Romans pants. His eyes full of self shame. 

Roman was speechless. Dean felt the need to pay him back? By doing this?

"I'll do it, man...I'll do it." Dean voice was shaky. He thought he had gotten away from this stuff but somethings never really go away do they. Whoring around as per usual, Dean thought. "You did me a favor, I need to do you a favor now." 

Roman look down at him. This was a child, a teenager, a boy, 19 years of life willing to allow someone to use his body because of fear of the consequences. 

Deans trembling hands went to the waistband of Romans pants. Large tan hands stopped Dean, cupping the teens face. The dirty blonde flinched hard, looking at the fellow inmate with confusion. 

"Can you stand up please?" 

Dean nodded, getting on his feet. Not making eye contact with the man in front of him. 

"You can do something else for me." It was obvious Dean really felt the need to pay Roman back so Roman might as well. 

Dean swallowed hard. He knew where this was going. He was going to eventually end up in pain either way. 

"For Dinner, please eat something."

There was no doubt Dean was taken aback. "What?" 

"You look half the size you were when you came here, eat something." 

"Dude, I-" 

"Do me a favor please. And eat. I don't want to watch someone die slowly." Roman put it in a way he knew the teen would understand. Straight forward and to the point. A little aggressive but not so much. 

"Fine." Dean agreed.


End file.
